Post an individual or collective poem here!

Mother stood under the whirling fan

Her face stiffen with anger

Her eyes narrowed like a needle point

Cloud of smoke still surrounding the room

Burnt blackberry pie smashed on the floor

She said no words

Tension filled the room

As if it was the calm before the storm.

(JenQuintana)



My mother and grandmother are cooking
The smell of blackberry pie baking in the oven fills the air
My aunt and cousins are cleaning
Nothing like finding a dead rat to change the mood
The kitchen heats up as clouds of smoke fills the room
"Someone check the pie!" My mother says
"That darn clock isn't working."
"Someone needs to take a trip to the store," says my cousin.
It looks like blackberry pie is off the menu
It's time for desert just as uncle Maurice arrives
Better late than never
(Roe Turner)